The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - Tol-in-Gaurhoth LXVIII: A Full Moon Over Innsmouth

McCaber · 10-17-2009, 06:45 AM

After their spiritual experience, the villagers separated out into the night and crawled back into their various holes.

Let's take a closer look at one of them. Kitanna, for instance. Even now she's already back at her house (or at least what's left of it after that unfortunate incident a few years back). She gives a soft sigh and opens the door. Inside, it's a mess. Sure, she means well, but there's only so much one can do in such a terrible setting. The bed in the corner is aged to pieces, a decrepit sink sits useless in the corner, and half the windows are shattered.

The one piece of beauty left in here is a single portrait hanging on the east wall. A young man with a far-off expression on his face; sweetly rendered even though the colors are long past their prime. She sits on the bed and stares at him for almost an hour. "Has it really been that long since then?" she whispers. "Twenty years to the night, and you still look as beautiful as ever." And the expression on her face changes. She gathers up her cloak and once more steps into the night.

Her steps lead her to the cliffs just outside of town. "This is where we would sit and watch the reef, on nights like this, with the full moon ..."

"The full moon! Gracious Lord, what am I doing?" She turns to run back, and the two shapes who followed her here move to cut her off.

"Now what sort of wolves would we be if we just let you go?" she hears. "At least make it a challenge for us," the other one snarls. All Kitanna can do is freeze in her tracks. Two quick slashes and it's all over. "That was hardly worth it. Throw her over and let's be done with it."

Her body bounces once off the cliff and then splashes into the ocean. The wolves depart hastily. All is still.

The villagers found her pulled onto shore that morning. The fishy smell on her lips was easily explained as seawater, and the large tracks around her body were wiped clean by the rising tides. But some, the wisest of the village, half-remembered a sound of weeping coming from the dark oceans late last night. And they remember the oldest of stories.

The Dead:
McCaber, town drunk and general layabout [mod]
Saucepan Man, disturbed and disturbing artist [werewolf]
A Little Green, blind ex-soldier [ordinary villager]
Nienna, innocent child and meteorologist [ordinary villager]
Kitanna, Innsmouth denizen [ordinary villager]

The Living:
Inziladun, fisherman
Pitchwife, heretical organist
Loslote, humble seamstress
Hakon, Innsmouth denizen
wilwa, Innsmouth denizen
Nogrod, student of alternate cosmologies
Roa, Innsmouth physician (with everything that entails)
Craydon1, penniless drifter
Nerwen, last scion of a decadent dynasty
Legate, displaced scholar of the Pnakotic Shards
Morsul, quiet librarian
Lairen Shadow, Innsmouth denizen
Brinn, Innsmouth denizen

IT IS NOW OFFICIALLY DAY 3.

10-17-2009, 06:45 AM	#269
McCaber Ghost Prince of Cardolan Join Date: Nov 2007 Location: Skyrim, again. Posts: 820	After their spiritual experience, the villagers separated out into the night and crawled back into their various holes. Let's take a closer look at one of them. Kitanna, for instance. Even now she's already back at her house (or at least what's left of it after that unfortunate incident a few years back). She gives a soft sigh and opens the door. Inside, it's a mess. Sure, she means well, but there's only so much one can do in such a terrible setting. The bed in the corner is aged to pieces, a decrepit sink sits useless in the corner, and half the windows are shattered. The one piece of beauty left in here is a single portrait hanging on the east wall. A young man with a far-off expression on his face; sweetly rendered even though the colors are long past their prime. She sits on the bed and stares at him for almost an hour. "Has it really been that long since then?" she whispers. "Twenty years to the night, and you still look as beautiful as ever." And the expression on her face changes. She gathers up her cloak and once more steps into the night. Her steps lead her to the cliffs just outside of town. "This is where we would sit and watch the reef, on nights like this, with the full moon ..." "The full moon! Gracious Lord, what am I doing?" She turns to run back, and the two shapes who followed her here move to cut her off. "Now what sort of wolves would we be if we just let you go?" she hears. "At least make it a challenge for us," the other one snarls. All Kitanna can do is freeze in her tracks. Two quick slashes and it's all over. "That was hardly worth it. Throw her over and let's be done with it." Her body bounces once off the cliff and then splashes into the ocean. The wolves depart hastily. All is still. The villagers found her pulled onto shore that morning. The fishy smell on her lips was easily explained as seawater, and the large tracks around her body were wiped clean by the rising tides. But some, the wisest of the village, half-remembered a sound of weeping coming from the dark oceans late last night. And they remember the oldest of stories. The Dead: McCaber, town drunk and general layabout [mod] Saucepan Man, disturbed and disturbing artist [werewolf] A Little Green, blind ex-soldier [ordinary villager] Nienna, innocent child and meteorologist [ordinary villager] Kitanna, Innsmouth denizen [ordinary villager] The Living: Inziladun, fisherman Pitchwife, heretical organist Loslote, humble seamstress Hakon, Innsmouth denizen wilwa, Innsmouth denizen Nogrod, student of alternate cosmologies Roa, Innsmouth physician (with everything that entails) Craydon1, penniless drifter Nerwen, last scion of a decadent dynasty Legate, displaced scholar of the Pnakotic Shards Morsul, quiet librarian Lairen Shadow, Innsmouth denizen Brinn, Innsmouth denizen IT IS NOW OFFICIALLY DAY 3. __________________ Werewolves vs. Fishmen. The battle of the century. Last edited by McCaber; 10-17-2009 at 11:46 AM.